


sometimes dead is better

by aniloquent



Category: Captain America - All Media Types
Genre: Also Bucky's dad is not here for your heteronormative bullshit, Alternate Universe - High School, Gore, Halloween AU, M/M, Nothing Huge, Scary Movies, because why not you know, but not really explicitly mentioned, like horror-movie typical gore you know
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-17
Updated: 2017-09-17
Packaged: 2018-12-30 20:55:31
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,580
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12117069
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aniloquent/pseuds/aniloquent
Summary: “You hate scary movies,” his mom says.“You’re literally Netflix and chilling,” Becca says.“You’re not sleeping in our bed tonight,” his dad says.Bucky throw his hands up. “We’re just hanging out!”Bucky’s dad grunts, unconvinced. “Take a condom.” He hesitates, glancing over at Bucky but not registering the horrified look on his face. “Or two. Steve plays football. Kid’s got stamina.”“Oh my god,” Bucky breathes, eyes rolling up to the ceiling.-Based on the Tumblr prompt "you absolutely loathe horror films whereas i love them, can we please please please just watch one? i’ll hold you if you get scared!"





	sometimes dead is better

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote a Halloween-themed little stucky ficlet bc I'm basic and also ignoring my other projects. Enjoy!
> 
> (Also the title is from Pet Sematary)

Bucky closes his locker to find Steve leaning behind it, grinning at him.

Bucky frowns. Steve’s grin gets wider.

“No.” Bucky says flatly, and starts walking away. Steve groans and pushes himself off the locker, chasing after Bucky as he speed walks to the cafeteria.

“Bucky,” he whines, tugging on Bucky’s arm, and the brunet scowls as he jerks with the seemingly effortless movement, albeit involuntarily. Fucking Steve and his damn weight training. “Come on, man. It's Halloween.”

Bucky yanks his arm away and smoothes out the sleeve on his sweater. He purses his lips and looks up at Steve, who looks like he's on the verge of doing those unfair puppy dog eyes. “Isn't that funny? It is! And every year you ask me this same damn question.” He puts his hands on his hips defiantly.

Steve rolls his eyes. “I know. And every year you give me that same damn answer.” He folds his arms, and Bucky can't help but notice how that gray henley looks peculiarly tight as he takes that stance. Bucky quickly looks away from his biceps and at Steve’s face. “But this year is different, Bucky,” he says as he takes Bucky’s bookbag off of his shoulder and slings it over his own. America, Bucky’s chemistry partner, passes them in the hallway and raises her eyebrows at Bucky. He feels his cheeks get hot and shoots her the bird as discreetly as he can.

Does everyone know about Bucky’s crush except Steve?

Steve is quiet, as if he’s expecting Bucky to ask why. Bucky huffs and complies. “What’s so different about this year?”

Steve’s shoulder nudges his. “We’re seniors.”

Bucky hums. “It seems we are.”

“Which means it’s our last year together.”

Bucky frowns. “It’s only October, Steve. We still-”

“Meaning,” the blond interrupts. “I won’t get to see my best guy and do all the dumb shit that we usually do because he won’t be down the street. He’ll be at NYU or Fordham or Pace or where you end up.” Steve smiles at him weakly, and the vulnerability of it all brings a small smile to Bucky’s face, too. “I just wanna spend as much time with you as I can.”

Steve admits the last part shyly, and it brings Bucky to a stunned halt once they get inside the cafeteria. He doesn’t smell the nauseating pizza grease, hear the near-fight breaking out at the football players’ table, or notice the light shove he gets from the gaggle of sophomores that had come in behind them. Instead, he’s fixed on the way Steve’s front teeth are tugging on his bottom lip, and the endless twirling of Bucky’s bookbag string around one of his fingers tells him that holy shit, his best friend is nervous.

“When you put it that way…” Bucky rubs the back of his neck. “Fine, Steve. We can watch movies tonight.”

As soon as it appeared, Steve’s puppy dog face is gone, and he shoots Bucky a boyish smirk. Bucky frowns. “I knew you’d cave. Sam!” He calls across the room, and leaves a shocked Bucky rooted to his spot as he starts towards the loud of Sam and Clint’s obnoxious laughter. “You owe me five dollars, pal!”

“Son of a…” Bucky mutters irritatedly, and reluctantly trails after his best friend.

-

“What time are you going to Steve’s? His mom doesn’t get off until eleven tonight.” Becca says with faux innocence, conveniently avoiding Bucky’s eyes as she eats her dinner. Bucky sends her a murderous glare from across the dinner table.

Bucky’s dad snorts into his drink at the same time Bucky’s mom raises her eyebrows.

“You’re going to Steve’s tonight?” His mom asks. She’s wearing that grin that had gotten both Becca and Bucky into (and out of) too many bouts of trouble to count.

Bucky pushes his carrots around on his plate sheepishly. “Uh, yeah,” he says slowly. His eyes move nervously between his parents. “We’re gonna watch scary movies.”

Bucky gets three confused frowns in reply, and he briefly wonders if this is what he looks like to other people.

“You hate scary movies,” his mom says.

“You’re literally Netflix and chilling,” Becca says.

“You’re not sleeping in our bed tonight,” his dad says.

Bucky throw his hands up. “We’re just hanging out!”

Bucky’s dad grunts, unconvinced. “Take a condom.” He hesitates, glancing over at Bucky but not registering the horrified look on his face. “Or two. Steve plays football. Kid’s got stamina.”

“Oh my god,” Bucky breathes, eyes rolling up to the ceiling.

“You don’t like scary movies, Bucky,” his mom says again.

Becca cuts in before Bucky can make up some shitty excuse. “Mom, he likes Steve,” she points out, and his mom nods and makes a noise in agreement, as if she didn’t make the connection before. “That’s the only reason he’s willing to watch the Saw series.”

“Besides, Winnie,” Bucky’s dad says around a mouthful of chicken. “They probably won’t be watching much of the movie after the first jumpscare. Bucky’s gonna be cuddled under those broad shoulders in minutes.”

Bucky wrinkles his nose. “Dad,” he whines. His dad shrugs.

“I have eyes, James.”

“You guys couldn’t go to a party? Or take the neighborhood kids out trick-or-treating? You’re gonna come back home scared shitless.” His mom reasons.

Bucky lifts a shoulder and averts his eyes to his plate. “Steve wanted it to just be the two of us. He thinks he’s not gonna see me as often after this year, so he wants us to spend as much time as we can together.”

He glares at his family members as they let out a chorus of “aww”s.

“Precious,” his mom says.

“Disgusting,” Becca says.

“You’re still not sleeping in our bed tonight,” his dad says.

Bucky groans. “Nothing is going to even happen!” he swears, and his mother and sister look at him doubtfully. “I’m probably gonna go over there, piss myself, and then we’re gonna have to switch to a rom-com halfway through to keep me from crying.” He bitterly stabs a carrot. “He’ll feel too bad for me to even consider making a move.”

His mother frowns and reaches out to squeeze Bucky’s hand. “Don’t be so negative, honey,” she says softly. “I think Steve really likes you, but you can be hard to read sometimes.”

Bucky’s dad reaches over to briefly clap him on the shoulder. “Maybe you need to make the first move here, son. It could do you some good and save you a hell of a lot of time.”

Becca nods sympathetically, and Bucky shoots her a semi-incredulous look. She was the entire reason they were having this conversation in the first place! “Yeah, Buck. Just be brave, tell him how you feel, and then talk about it.” She wiggles her eyebrows at him, and he resists the childish urge to stick his tongue out at her. “Maybe you won't even pay attention to the scary things on the screen after that.”

Bucky sighs. That was… sweet, in the way that only his nosy, caring family could be.

“We’ll see. Don't expect much, though, and definitely do not ask Steve about it.” He resigns.

His mother sits back in her seat happily. “You never know James,” she says knowingly. “You never know.”

Bucky’s dad spears another piece of chicken. “You should still take a condom.”

“Dad.”

-

Bucky knocks on Steve’s door, mainly for show at this point, knowing he can probably walk right in, but the action is still somewhat grounding. He allows himself to release the breath he didn’t know he was holding as he waits for Steve to answer, and allows himself to calm down about tonight.

It was just a night in with his best friend. Nothing special there.

Except Bucky’s tremendous crush, his brain reminds him. Bucky frowns.

And his large amount of teen angst.

Bucky frowns harder.

Overcome with thoughts about how poorly the night could go, Bucky is full-on scowling by the time Steve reaches the door. His best friend merely smiled cutely in return.

“Hi, jerk.”

“Hey, punk.”

Steve lets him in, and Bucky isn’t surprised to find the large bowl of candy sitting on the living room table, filled to the brim with full-sized candy bars. Steve was really sick when he was younger, and his mother made a point to go all out for the holidays that Steve missed while in bed. It was something that Steve had carried over into his teenage years, and probably for the rest of his life, to make a huge deal out of almost every holiday, whether he celebrated it or not. It was endearing, and Bucky appreciated his enthusiasm.

Besides, Bucky could appreciate Steve’s body in that Captain America suit he wore for the kids every year.

“You’re not dressing up this year?” Bucky asks, sort of disappointed that he’s not getting to see the white tights clinging to Steve’s thighs like always.

Steve snorts. “Nah, decided not to. Mom didn’t want me to embarrass her in front of the neighbors with my horrible 1940s accent.”

Bucky toes off his shoes, more out of respect for Sarah Rogers than at Steve’s suggestion, and flops down on the couch seconds after Steve does the same thing. “Shame, then. Guess I’ll have nothing to keep me entertained as I get tortured for the next few hours.” Bucky keeps his eyes forward, but he can feel Steve’s frown across the sofa.

“If you’re really that scared, we don’t have to watch this shit, you know,” Steve says, watching Bucky with concern older than his seventeen years. Bucky rolls his eyes.

“I’m fine with it, Steve. It’s something you wanted to do, so I’ll do it.” Steve brightens instantly at that, and Bucky decides that he’s literally in love with a golden retriever.

“That’s so sweet, Bucky!” He clutches his heart dramatically, long eyelashes batting excessively. Bucky rubs his middle finger across his forehead. “They’re just people getting paid to dress up and scare you. It’s not real.”

“Nothing’s real,” Bucky counters, and the flat look that Steve gives him tells Bucky that someone is not in the mood for one of Bucky’s existential rants. “And I’m not worried about the movies. It’s more of my own imagination afterwards. I’ll overthink myself into a heart attack.”

The pair stare at each other until the shrill sound of Steve’s doorbell rings through the house. The trick-or-treaters are out.

“Aw Buck,” Steve coos, and tosses a few pieces of candy into his mouth before heading to the door. “I’ll hold you if you get scared,” he teases, and he’s gone before Bucky can full process that sentence.

-

Bucky is decidedly scared shitless at this dumb, gory movie.

The murderer emerges from behind a door, music sudden, and he jumps back into the couch again. He clutches a hand to his chest for a second to calm his heart before sneaking a sheepish glance in Steve’s direction. Thankfully, the blond’s eyes are glued to the screen, unblinking as the poor girl gets chopped into pieces.

Bucky tries his best to nonchalantly reach across the couch and tug Steve’s right arm free of where it’s crossed over his chest with his left. Steve jumps, then curses loudly. Bucky tries not to think too hard about how his best friend’s muscles tense under his fingers. “Fucking shit, Bucky, you scared the hell out of me!” Steve admonishes. He glances over, frowning when Bucky continues to pull his arm away from his body and sling it over the back of the couch.

The confused frown on Steve’s face quickly breaks into a smug simper as Bucky moves from his spot on the opposite side of the couch. “Don’t look at me like that,” Bucky says grumpily as he scoots into Steve’s chest. He rests his entire body against Steve’s side and front, and the top of his head grazes the bottom of Steve’s chest. Bucky near pouts as he feels the vibrations of Steve’s laughter rumble underneath him. “And stop laughing! You said this was okay, and I’m man enough to admit that I’m scared shitless.”

Steve feels warm and solid beneath him, but his right hand remains on the back of the couch. Bucky sighs internally. Only Steve could have another person completely cuddled against him while watching movies late at night and still make it platonic.

Bucky shifts uncomfortably as his mind races. It's not too late for him to play this whole thing off as a joke. He can still move and laugh off a quick “no homo” and return to his spot across the couch before making up some lame excuse to go home early. Better yet, he could fake a sneeze-

Bucky squeaks involuntarily (but in a totally manly way, FYI) as Steve’s arm comes down to encircle his shoulder.

“Stop moving, will ya?” Steve mumbles, eyes glued to the screen and completely missing the incredulous look Bucky’s giving him. “Can't focus on the movie.”

Bucky bites down the smile on his face as he moves impossibly closer into Steve’s side. He gets a squeeze in return.

“I’m glad you took me up on my offer, by the way,” Steve says softly.

Bucky doesn’t even pay attention to the rest of the movie.

-

Steve stretches as the credits roll, joints popping, and his arm comes up from around Bucky, but he can’t be too mad as he rolls his own shoulders.

“I don't know how you watch this shit, Steve,” Bucky says. Steve rolls his eyes playfully as he gets to his feet, grabbing the bowl full of kernels on the table. He walks into the kitchen, and Bucky follows to annoy him. “It's just blood and sex.”

Steve shrugs as he starts the microwave. “What more could you ask for?”

Bucky crosses his arms. “More characterization of the females so that they aren't subjected to constant sexualization followed by brutal deaths?”

Steve regards Bucky with honest appreciation. “Agreed. Still,” he says, leaning against the counter. “I'm more into the blood part than the sex part.”

Bucky wrinkles his nose because what the fuck. “So you're telling me you more interested in the hot redhead get her skull split in half than seeing her change shirts?”

Steve shrugs. “I was more into the blond, personally.”

Bucky frowns. “None of the girls were blonde, only that one guy-”

Wait.

Steve has his eyebrows raised challengingly, and Bucky opens his mouth to respond when he's interrupted by the first popping of kernels. Both boys flinch, and Steve snorts at Bucky.

“Why are you so jumpy, Buchanan? Scared of a little blood?”

Bucky blinks incredulously at his best friend, who had just shattered any musings about his being straight in the most passive way possible. Steve knows that Bucky’s bisexual, everyone does, but Bucky doubts that Steve was mess with him about something like that, even as a joke. Still, Steve had never, ever mentioned anything about being into guys.

And he knows the moment’s gone. Bucky shrugs internally, trying to erase his disappointment and respect Steve’s boundaries. If Steve didn’t want to talk about it now, he wouldn’t push that. “Could ask you the same thing, Grant.”

Steve watches him with an amused smile on his lips, and Bucky meets his eyes, anticipating a short moment of horseplay. It was one of Steve’s favorite things to do since he’d gotten strong enough to do so.

(It was one of Bucky’s least favorite things to do, considering the embarrassing amount of times Bucky had to excuse himself to the bathroom or back to his house to take care of the flustered boners that had popped up in the middle of their wrestling.)

Bucky braces himself for Steve’s first tackle, but literally feels his blood chill as Steve steps forward, getting in his personal space.

Bucky’s eyes widen. Shit. He tries his hardest to keep a cool look on his face and definitely not let his stare drop down to where he can see Steve licking his lips in his peripheral vision. Steve’s chest is nearly touching his, and Bucky can feel his throat getting tight in both panic and in desire. He really doesn’t know what’s going to happen next, but a small voice in the back of his head is reminding him what usually happens in these types of situations.

So he waits, not wanting to misinterpret what he thought was happening. That would only make things worse.

(Even though there’s no heterosexual explanation for this.)

He’s focusing on the flecks of green in Steve’s blue eyes when the blond, only for a fraction of a second, drops his gaze pointedly to Bucky’s lips.

Bucky lets out a surprised squeak at that, and that noise seems to snap Steve back to reality, out of whatever weird trance just came over him.

“Jerk,” Steve says, and steps away to grab the popcorn out of the microwave before brushing past Bucky and into the living room to start the next movie.

Bucky threads his hand through his hair and leans against the the counter, trying to catch his breath and calm his nerves.

What the fuck was going on?

-

Of course, because Bucky has complete shit luck, the next movie has a sex scene.

A gay one.

With a blond that’s a has Steve’s nose and a brunet that has Bucky’s hair.

They’re really into it, and Bucky is literally frozen to where he’s sitting (after the thing in the kitchen, Bucky has silently reclaimed his seat on the other side of the sofa. Steve hadn’t said anything.) with mortification. The grunts and moans are making him wince, and he guiltily ignores the automatic mental note to go back and watch this scene later.

By himself.

With lotion and kleenex.

Ahem.

“Oh, Seth,” the Bucky look-a-like sighs, and Bucky nearly groans. Really?

The movie pauses, and Bucky looks over to find the remote in Steve’s hand. Even in the dark, Bucky can see the flush high on Steve’s cheeks, and he would laugh if Steve wasn't giving him that same look from earlier.

Oh.

Bucky is watching Steve. Steve is watching Bucky.

“Buck,” Steve breathes out, and Bucky watches the muscles in his throat work as he gulps.

“I need to try something,” Bucky blurts, and he doesn’t know where this impulsive surge of confidence is coming from, but he goes with it anyway. If he doesn’t act now, he doesn't know if he ever will.

“O-okay,” Steve says, and Bucky watches his tongue dart out to wet his lips again.

He surges forward to kiss Steve before common sense can stop him, and Bucky feels his heart sink as Steve freezes up, pointedly not kissing him back.

This was a bad idea.

Bucky is about to pull away, but Steve’s hand is suddenly cupping the back of his head and pulling him flush against his chest, and his tongue is tracing out over the seam of Bucky’s lips.

This was a good idea.

Bucky learns a few new things, he thinks as he pushes Steve’s shirt up his chest. One, his best friend is a great kisser. Two, his best friend and long-time crush is attracted to him enough to return his advances with enthusiasm of his own.

“I've wanted to do this for so long,” Steve sighs as he lets Bucky pull his shirt over his head and push him backwards into the couch cushions. He watches Bucky climb on top of him with lidded eyes, and Bucky thinks he's beautiful.

“Why didn't you ever say anything?” Bucky mutters against Steve’s skin as he presses kisses to his jaw and down his neck. Steve pants as Bucky sucks bruises into his pale skin. “I feel the same way.”

“Didn't know how,” he says, and Bucky revels in how Steve’s voice in on the verge of absolutely wrecked. He continues his assault with more fervor than before, eager to get Steve to sound like that again.

Steve’s phone rings.

Bucky curses and pushes himself up, still straddling Steve, but sitting back on his belt buckle. He bites down a smirk at the erection pressing on his behind as Steve reaches out to grab at his phone. His other hand goes to Bucky’s waist to keep him upright, and Bucky could honestly get used to this.

“Hey, Ma,” Steve says shyly, and Bucky is impressed with how nonplussed Steve sounds, as if he wasn't two second away from getting a blowjob. “Yeah yeah, we’re fine. Movies are good.” Steve’s eyes widen almost comically. “11:00? I thought you said-” Steve is cut off again as he listens to his mother. “Yeah, no, he’ll still be here. Okay. Love you. Bye.”

Bucky’s lips are back on Steve’s, and Steve seems even more fervently than before. His hands are palming at Bucky’s ass desperately, and Bucky can’t help but laugh as he falls forward into Steve’s chest.

“What's gotten into you?” Bucky asks jokingly. “Don't tell me that phone call did something for you.”

“It’s 10:27, babe,” and yes, Bucky could certainly get used to that pet name.

“Yes, it is. And?” Steve stares at Bucky evenly for a second before it clicks, and suddenly Bucky is kissing Steve with the same rushed want that Steve had a minute ago.

And three, they have thirty minutes to do whatever is about to happen before Steve’s mom gets home. 


End file.
